“Perfect,” Mira answered. “And if she’s good, she can work directly with Parisa going forward. Anything you’re not sure of on the tennis side, ask me. I have a unique perspective, after all.” Her glossy bob was a sparkling silver, and despite the move to coaching, she was still dressed for television in a deep red pantsuit rather than activewear. There was a time she could have outplayed any of us at the table, even in her three-inch heels.
Still, if we had to have a strategy session, I was proud that it was exclusively strong, independent women all at the top of their games. The problems were more likely in a room full of GTA suits, too many of whom were still entitled white men, who hadn’t ever been involved in the game. I hoped that would change over the next few years too. Wow, I really must be happier if I was sitting there plotting all the ways to make the world a better place. I laid my hand on top of Toni’s where it still rested on my thigh. One last thing was nagging at me.
“Wait, why are we all coordinating? This drug-testing thing could die out in a week. If it carries on then Celeste will be the next person to go public, so…”
“Uh, I think that’s more to do with ‘us,’” Toni answered, finger quotes and all. She looked around the table for confirmation, getting a shrug from Celeste and nodded confirmation from everyone else. “Nobody here wants us being a couple to get mixed up in these other issues because it’ll pull all the attention. So we let the publicists do our talking for a while.”
I found myself blushing, but where in the past I would have denied it or played down any need for coordination, the simple act of touching Toni in that moment confirmed that I was serious about her. At least about trying to make it work, travel and competition and all. She might see sense and dump me before we got back out of Miami, but right now I didn’t want to consider any setup where we didn’t at least have the option to see each other every day.
Our timing was pretty great too, since March was one of the more settled parts of the calendar. April was a mess, with little tournaments everywhere until we settled into some of the nicer European venues to get ready for the French Open.
“Well, I appreciate everyone’s help,” I said. “But if we’re done for now, then I think I’d like to take Toni for lunch somewhere that isn’t decorated with tennis balls.”
“I’ll e-mail what they say about you not taking the meeting,” Parisa replied. “So go have fun, you crazy kids.”
I felt like a teenager being allowed to go to prom at the last minute, but since I’d been a teenager who played in junior pro tournaments instead of going to anything like a prom, I decided to lean the hell into the feeling and enjoy it.
Judging from the soft giggle as I dragged Toni out of that room, she was on the same page.
There was one downside to Miami, and every year it gave me pause to check every joint and muscle, just in case a tiny injury might be developing to keep me out of it.
Not the weather; I’d played in dry and humid heat all over the world. There was a reason they called it and Indian Wells the Sunshine Double. I certainly didn’t mind the city with its amazing restaurants and beach culture. I was actually looking forward to seeing more of the Spanish-speaking side with Toni to demystify some of it. It wasn’t remarkably different as a tournament, one way or another.
No, the one thing that put me off the second competition was Miami Airport. It was at least a little more bearable flying private, so I had insisted when Parisa made the arrangements.
Celeste had triumphed in California and was now seeded favourite to do the same in Miami. The urge to not allow that, to claim the title for myself, thrummed in my veins from the moment we set foot on the plane.
Toni had initially refused to travel by private jet, horrified by the environmental impact, but ultimately our slightly sickening desire not to be apart won her over. She was an official convert when she didn’t have to take her week’s worth of kit through security and baggage claim, kicking back with some champagne almost right away.
As an additional bonus, Alice had driven down to fly with us. She had some big collectors in Miami, and I’d been happy to give her whatever tickets she needed to impress them. While she couldn’t give a damn about tennis, a lot of other people did, and it was an easy way to kiss up to rich art buyers and have some fun in the evenings too.
“You’re late,” I told Alice as she stepped on board. “Honestly, we’re taking so many people it’s starting to feel like coach in here.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Elin,” my mother scolded on her way past to help herself to the champagne. “And have a drink. It might make you better at sharing.”
“Is that official coaching advice?” I asked, doing exactly as I was told. “To increase my chances of winning the Miami Masters, drink more alcohol?”
“Wow, you’re showing your age, lady,” Alice warned. “Even I know it’s not called the Masters anymore.”
I gave her a little smack on the back of the head as I passed, taking the seat next to Toni.
“This isn’t too much, right?” I asked quietly. “The family, the travelling together… If we need to slow down, just tell me.”
“Nah, dragging things out and pretending not to
